Discussão:Seddie/@comment-4030533-20110603235513
olhem só, um resuminho de uma das minhas parte favoritas de "It's my Couch" não vou traduzir, sou péssima traduzindo. espero que saibam falar ingles, ou traduzam por si mesmo. é MUITO bom! boa leitura ^^ You guys agree that a taco would win in a fight against a grilled cheese sandwich, right? Carly keeps saying grilled cheese would kick a taco's but, even outside the boundaries of prison rules. Come on! A grilled cheese sandwich is just a soggy, cheesy mess. But Carly says that it's only fair to fry the sandwich until it's golden brown and not soggy before allowing it to participate in the fight. That is bologna. Bologna…hmm…I bet a bologna sandwich might put up a good fight against, say, a giant pickle. Okay, we'll see what Carly thinks about this match up. I'm saying pickle wins. What about you guys? Right, well…sorry about that. I've been in the mood to rant since my 'discussion' with Carly over which foods would prevail over the others in a fight. So, how are you? Good? Great. Not so good? I'm sorry that person you're angry with is such a jerk, or that you stubbed your toe, or that you made a total fool out of yourself in front of a large crowd, or that you are feeling under the weather, or that you accidentally dropped your goldfish in the garbage disposal (rest in piece Phillipe), or that you have a crap ton of tests to cram for and you are spending your time reading this, or for any other possible scenario that could affect you in a remotely negative way. Wow, my longest sentence ever. Share in my silence for this proud moment...okay. Thank you. That was a good time just now. So, I bet you are not caring at all what I have to say. That's fine. I have my own friends who love me and beg me to tell them my opinion on triumphant foods and such. Mmmkay. Let's get down to business. So this story I'm about to tell you is not my favorite. Mainly because it's Sam's birthday. Sam's birthday is a very painful and downcast day to all. I mean, as if Sam isn't demanding enough. Then give her a 'birthday girl' party hat and you suddenly have to bend to her every whim without complaint. And Freddie is blue! Like, I don't mean he's feeling blue. The kid's skin is blue! I'm talking blue like blueberries, or the sky, or Blue Man Group or something else that is blue. He is blue. Oh the possibilities for pun with this situation. Hmmm...Why is his skin blue? Don't worry, I'll get to the bottom of this. So we are sitting in my living room. Me on the coffee table, Sam and Fred on the couch, the lonely chairs on either side of us. My couch's inhabitants are glaring at each other from opposite ends of the couch. They are both tucked under the same blanket each with an ice pack resting over their face. You see, we just got back from Fred's basketball game, and while Freddie was going for a loose ball he ran head-on into Sam, who was asleep on the floor next to the half court line. It is her birthday after all. She can sleep wherever she feels pleasing. Oh yeah, Freddo plays basketball now. I know, right! I laughed too...but I guess he's taller and more coordinated. Pssth. Heh. Okay, you can laugh. It's still funny. Did you just get a mental picture of Freddie sitting on the bench playing with wires? Ha! Yeah, me too. But he made the team, I guess, and I'm happy for him. Gets him away from his mom, and more importantly, away from Sam. I say this because Sam has been particularity angry with Freddie over the last few weeks, and Freddie has paid dearly for it. I asked Carly what was up with the two couch sitters the other day. She told me that she thought Freddie was jealous of this guy named Cooper who Sam went to the movies with. He was jealous? The kid's name was Cooper for crying out loud! That's such a lame name. Uh, sorry for any of you who have and or like the name Cooper. I mean lame as in...cool. Like a cool sort of lame. Yeah...anyhoo, according to Carly, Freddie was jealous. Yeah right! It's Sam! Freddie wouldn't care who she went out with. That would imply that-that...he likes her...ew. That's crazy and impossible. But all of the woman in my life seem to think differently about this particular subject (Carly, Mandy, the old lady who bags groceries at Value-Mart. Random? Yeah, I can't bring Sam and Freddie anywhere these days without people making false assumptions). But Carly insists Fred is jealous. So she thinks his jealousy is what triggered him to ask out some chick named Natalie. Why did her name have to be Natalie? Now all I hear is Freddie yelling at Sam to stop referring to her as 'NASTalie'. Heh, Nastalie. Funny. Sam has a knack for nicknames. Okay, so since Freddo and Natalie started 'talking', and this could be a total coincidence! But since then, Sam has been quite a bit meaner to Freddie. She has been going a little overboard with the pranks. Not that it's not entertaining to see everything in Freddie's wardrobe get turned pink, or see a picture of his face photoshopped onto a swimsuit model's body circulating around the net, or to see him now. Blue skinned and frustrated. I think I know the answer already, but, "Why is your skin blue?" I ask Freddie in a nonchalant tone that only this odd pair could bring upon me when asking a question of this level of absurdity. Yeah...that. "Sam," Freddie answers, giving the subject of his answer an angry glare from the other end of the couch. Then he lets out a yelp as the subject of his answer kicks him under the covers. Sam looks up at me, seemingly proud of her work. "You remember a few years back when we used those powdery blue capsule things to turn Gibby blue for that iCarly skit?" "Yeah..." "Well, there were still some leftover in the iCarly props. I put one in the dork's shower spout." Sam gives the blue boy lying opposite her a thoughtful look. "And Mr. Showers Daily was such an easy target, it was almost wrong. Almost." I stifle my laugh, for angry blue Freddie's sake. Then a thought occurs to me. Hey! You laughed! Thoughts occur to me. I think things. I think a lot of things. Hmph. Cyber-crossing arms initiated. Anyway, a thought occurs (don't even start) to me. "Sam? Aren't those, like, expired or something?" Sam smiles deviously. "Why do you think it's taking so long for Freddie to wash it off?" "Genius," I say, avoiding Freddie's angry glare from behind his blue furrowed eyebrows. "What's wrong, Fredwardo? Feeling a little blue?" Sam smirks. Ha! Feeling a little blue! Oh man...that is punny. You know, like funny with pun. Funny pun. Punny. Yeah? No? Never mind. Freddie doesn't think that this is punny. "Shut up Sam!" Sam is still eying her blue work fondly. "Hey, you can't tell the birthday girl to shut up! And what are you supposed to refer to me as on my birthday?" Freddie just huffs defiantly. "I'm warning you boy! Say it!" Freddie doesn't change his angry expression. "You asked for it," Sam croons, removing the ice pack from her face, and flinging it at Freddie's. When all he does is moan, she sets to kicking him violently a few times. "No, no, no! You aren't starting that again!" I say, standing to appear as a bit more of a threat. "Come on! You two fight enough!" And I am ignored. I lean down so my mouth is level with Sam's ear, and shout what she is wanting to hear. "Hey, You're Majesty! Stop kicking Freddie!" The mention of her chosen name for the day brings her back to reality where no one is kicking Freddie. She turns on me instead. "Where's my birthday cake?" I gulp. "Sam...I al-already told y-you." I am trying and failing to keep the frightened shaking out of my voice. Sam has asked me about nine times today where her cake was. And I swear I made one! But I lost it. No! I did not lose it, it disappeared! But nobody believes me. I promise it's the truth! You believe me, right? I baked it and frosted it last night, and let it sit out on the counter so Diggy could admire it from his cage. And when I got up this morning, the cake was gone. Gone! And Sam was very upset with me. I promised her a double layered chocolate cake for her birthday. But you know what the most interesting part of Sam's anger for me at this time is? She had chocolate all over her mouth as she was asleep on my couch this morning. Yeah, I'm not blind. Nothing gets past me. I can put two and two together. Freddie re-situates himself and his legs which were once beside Sam's are now on top of them. But it's not like he did this on purpose! It's not like he wants to be in his current position. They just tend to steer clear of the chairs, and I guess after the accident at the game, they both feel like lying down. It's not like they are enjoying this. They are still glaring at each other after all. Wow, you guys and your hasty false presumptions. Anyhoo, where was I? Ah, yes. So nothing gets past me. I catch all the little details. And Sam's chocolate covered mouth was a sure sign that she knew exactly what had happened to her cake. She just didn't want to share it. And now she is blaming me to clear her own name from suspicion. Hmm...or she really doesn't remember eating the cake. Sam tends to eat in her sleep at times. "I better have a cake before the end of the day," Sam threatens. "Or else?" Sam lets out an evil laugh. "Trust me Spence, you don't want to know. You might wet yourself...again." "Hey! I haven't wet myself in four years!" Sam has provoking Freddie down to an art, but that doesn't mean she doesn't know which buttons to press on other people. The pants wetting thing, that's a soft spot for me. And it was only once! And it was cold out, and I drank an entire thirty-two once red slush from SnowBiz. Not my fault. "You keep telling yourself that. Now make me a sammich!" Freddie seems to be enjoying his break from Sam's yelling as he watches her with an amused blue expression. I am less than enthused to take on his burden. "Sorry, You're Majesty. Out of bread," I say, trying to keep my frustration to a minimal. Angering Sam on her birthday is the equivalent of a death wish. But I can't help myself. "Well, we are out of practically all foods. Congratulations. You consumed everything." Sam's anger overtakes her brief pride. "Then go buy some more!" she yells. Then she looks up thoughtfully. "And...I want something else too, I just can't think of it." I sigh. "Seriously Sam-," "It's on the tip of me tongue!" I try again, "Sam-," "Oh! I got it. I would like a stuffed dinosaur. Thank you." Wow. She said thank you. Exciting. "Sam! I already bought you eight pounds of beef jerky! What more do you want from me?" "A dinosaur," she says quietly. She looks a bit taken aback that I would raise my voice at her. I usually hold it in and just take what the kiddos throw out at me. But with it being Sam's birthday, and her ordering me around all day and stealing the cake I made, the explosion has been long overdue. Freddie looks rather taken aback too. And angry. "Hey! it's her birthday, Spence. You could show some class." Are you kidding me? The kid who is constantly yelling at Sam and telling her off is telling me to show some class for her birthday? Seriously? Well, according to him, I guess only Freddie is allowed to piss Sam off on her birthday. But Sam doesn't find Fred's standing up for her to be an acceptable act of gallantry. "Shut up, Fredqueer. I can take care of myself." Freddie glares at her again. I guess his previous amusement of watching Sam yell at me has melted away and been replaced with hostility. What else is new? "Oh really," Freddie muses. "Then how come you had to call me to come get you from that party the other night?" Going by his smug expression, I bet Freddie thinks he won this one. "Hey! It's my birthday! I will choose the subjects of our conversation! Last night's events are off limits." "Wait," I say, making my way to the kitchen. "What happened at that party? Was Carly there? Where is Carly?" "Whoa, simmer down Speedy. One at a time," Sam says. I open Diggory's cage and drop a handful of bird feed inside. He squawks happily saying, "Rawt! Freddie's a nub!" Dig looks a bit disgruntled when I don't give him the usual praise he would receive from Sam at this time. "Did Carly go to that party last night?" She better not have if it was too much for Sam, whom I would label as 'extreme party animal'. "No, don't worry." Good. "And where is Carly?" You know what? I don't think I hear the shower. Hmm... "She's out with Zach," Sam answers. "Out with Zach?" I repeat. "Is Zach a girl?" "No," Freddie says. "Hence the name Zach." "So...it's like a-a...it's a-," Sam grows impatient. "Yes a date. Spencer, she's sixteen." "No she's not. She's eleven," I say quietly to myself as I stroke Diggy's back. Then a random chorus of 'Funkytown' by Lipps Inc. sounds off in the living room, and Sam immediately stands up on the couch and starts dancing. I guess the past few years of 'Random Dancing' have her trained. But she's sixteen now. Her dancing is...er...not quite as random. It's a bit more grown up. Eh...Man! It's impossible to be the twenty-seven-year-old brother/guardian of your kid sister who has strange friends that dance in your living room and not feel like a perv at times! Goodness, I'm a guy! It's hard not to notice. Ew...okay, I'm done. She just realized that I, and mainly Freddie, was staring at her and her movements change to her normal haphazard flinging of limbs in ways unimaginable to we normal humans beings. There's the Sam dancing we all know and love. "Answer your phone," Freddie is able to say, after getting over the initial shock of Sam's random dancing. No pun intended that time. "Sam here. Go," she says, stopping the chorus of the 80's hit song. I hear the faint sound of Carly's excited voice on the other line. "Yeah...Uh huh...Sure...Really? Oh my gosh, what did you say? Heh. Yeah. He would do that!" Eh, girl talk. Weird stuff. Sam glances at Freddie then continues pacing. "No, he's fine now. He regained conscientiousness awhile ago. That'll teach him to run into Sam Puckett!" Freddie heaves a disgruntled sigh. "Yeah...no he's seriously fine. Other than being a little girl, and just feeling a bit blue...no, you're wrong. It's still funny. It will always be funny." I must say that I agree with her on her opinion of this particular pun. "Okay, I will let Spence know...thanks. Happy birthday to you too...I know, I know. I just never know how to answer when people wish me happiness and such...But you know it's difficult for me to say thank you! Heh. Alright...Yeah, see you soon. Bye." She turns to me. "Carly is wondering if you could go pick her up at the movie theater. Zach's car broke down." "Of course it did. Stupid Zach." "You don't even know him," Freddie laughs. "He's a pretty good guy." "What happened to you and Carly. I felt safer when it was you who was in love with her." Freddie looks a bit angry under his blue mask. "No offense." Freddie just crosses his arms as Sam muses, "Spencer, don't you remember? August fifteenth...Freddie De-pronounces His Love Day. The day Freddo here-," she ruffles his hair violently, "-decided he didn't have feelings for Carly anymore. We celebrate it like a holiday, with the party hats and everything. Carly has it marked on her calender." "Ah, of course. How could I forget? You stole the cake I made that day too," I say, but only because I'm a safe distance away from the aggressive blonde while I'm in the kitchen. Freddie looks a bit frustrated that we would make a cake due to his canceling of feelings toward Carly. But with the creepy stalking her for years and everything, he brought it upon himself. "I did not steal the cake today! You lost it!" Sam yells. She looks pissed. I will drop it for now. My face likes being attached to my scalp. I put Diggory back in his cage and make my way to the door. "I'm getting Carls. I'll be right back. Don't kill each other, don't feed Dig, don't answer the door for hobos, you know the drill." "Yeah, yeah. We got it," Sam says, throwing Freddie's legs off the couch and plopping down in their spot. "Shut up Benson," she yells as he grunts his disagreement. "It's my birthday!" So it's a few a hours later. The kiddos just got done with iCarly. Carls is, of course, in the shower. The other two are sitting on the couch, glaring each other down. The tension in the room right now is so heavy it makes me want to melt and crawl into a dark hole. I really need to get myself one of those sometime. I guess Sam was late for iCarly, and Freddie yelled at her, or at least that's what it had sounded like from down here. Anyways, they got into it while live on the air, and Carly freaked and started spraying them with her spray bottle. Then Sam flipped out and threw it against the wall. Good. It's broken. The death of the annoying spray bottle has been highly anticipated for some time now. Anyways, Sam and Freddo are now sitting on my couch, their piercing stares just daring the other to make a move. I guess the tension they built during the web cast has not subsided due to their floor level descent. Finally Sam breaks the heavy silence. "Make me a Sammich!" Freddie glares back at the angry pirate girl. "NO! Make your own damn sandwich!" Sam crosses her arms. "It's my birthday! You have to do whatever I tell you!" “You are so full of yourself!" Freddo crosses his arms as well. Oh my goodness. He just used a naughty word. Freddie! Wow, this is intense. "Oh, stop being such a queer. And I'm sure Mrs. B would not approve of you're fowl language, young man." Sam smirks, and I know better than to wait around for Freddo's reaction. I hastily skip off to my room and shut the door behind me. This for the most part blocks off their frantic yelling back and forth. I'm not even going to try to stop it today. Birthday pirate Sam and angry blue Freddie. Yeah, there will be blood for sure. I set to work on the new sculpture I've been working on. It's called 'Manikins Gone Wild'. I found all of these old manikin parts in the dumpster outside the mall. No it's not creepy! It's art. So I'm gluing a man's white head to a torso that looks like it may match. Then I hear Freddo's frustrated "AHH!" after Sam says something particularly provoking. Hmm...maybe I should go out there...Naw, they're fine. They are still yelling. That's a good sign. So I am sticking a lady manikins leg into her hip socket. "Pardon me, Ma'am." Then I hear Freddie's frightened voice again. "That's not true! You're insane!" Uh oh. Sam is being insane. Not good. Oh well, not my problem. I just want to figure out how to attach this hand to its wrist. The nobs are broken off and there are a few chips in it. I set to gluing again, and accidentally break off one of the lady manikin's fingers. No! I glue it back on quickly. Too quickly. I just glued my hands together. Ah man! I knew it was going to happen sometime though, as much as I use superglue. Darn it... So I am attempting to pry my hands apart when I suddenly realize that there is no noise coming from the living room. Wait, what? I listen carefully. Nothing, no yelling, no screaming, no beating, nothing. Hmm...okay, now I'm scared. Sam killed Freddie! I open my door knob with my chin (after trying with my glued hands for a minute or so), then prepare myself for the frightening scene I may be walking in upon. I take a deep breath, pushing thoughts of Freddie's mangled body out of my mind, and stride into the living room. Okay, Freddie's not dead. He's the first thing I see when I walk in on the couch scene. In fact, he's the only thing I see. So I assume Sam is under him. Dear God, they are still fighting. I shift my weight to my left and tilt my head to get a better view of the fight. Hmm...it seems Sam is everything but struggling beneath Freddie. In fact, she is doing quite the opposite...wait! Holy cabooses! No way! No flipping way! Are they...are they...? Oh my gosh, they are. And it's not just some little peck you give your grandma either. This is like full blown, on my couch, all over each other, making out. Dear God! What got into them! Ew...okay...this is disgusting. I cannot watch this. Seriously, this is a bit strange. Sam and Freddie. Rock and Pink Mystery. The pirate and ol' blue...on my couch...Okay, that image was just forever burned into my head. This needs to stop. But I'm frozen on the spot. I am in a rather deep state of shock at this point. I can't will myself to move. Man, I feel creepier than usual. So, I do the only logical thing that comes to mind, and shut my eyes tight. A dark hole would really come in handy now as well. Alright, closing my eyes is working for a few seconds. Then I feel something tickling my bare foot. I open my eyes to see something looking rather like a dead rodent next to my left foot. Going against my better judgment and my queasy stomach, I glance up at the usual inhabitants of my couch and see that Sam decided to take off her pirate beard for Freddo. Wow, how courteous of her. I kick the beard to the side and take a timid step forward. Okay, seriously. This has to stop. Wait, what is going to happen when it does stop? Uh oh. If my suspicions are correct, and their current positions are merely a result of high tension and teenage hormones, then the aftermath of this is not going to be pretty. Maybe Sam will kill Fred this time. But she is not looking like she has a massacre on her mind at this time, still contently wrapped in Freddie's arms, oblivious to anything else. Them and their stupid zone. Freddie tries to kiss Sam's forehead, being all sweet and Freddie-ish. Sam forcefully pulls his blue face back to her lips, being all aggressive and Sam-ish. Right, well that would be Sam-one, Freddo-none. Oh! Wait! Did I just say that! Ahh! Sorry about that. Subconscious habit...my bad. Okay, it is really time to stop this. I open my mouth to yell at them, but all I can muster is a weak, "Uh, should...I be concerned..er..." Luckily they are a bit timid in this new zone, so it's not impossible to penetrate. Thank God. They untangle themselves hastily and stand up on the couch, both a bit pink in the face. And Freddie has got this idiotic ear to ear grin on his face. Heh. Sam glances at him, then back at me, then turns angrily on Freddie. She slaps his face saying, "Freddie! How dare you touch me!" Yeah right! Like I'm going to fall for that. Sam didn't look like she was minding it a second ago. She realizes that I'm not convinced and decides it might be a good time to push Freddie over the back of the couch. Freddie is too dazed to fight back. His head makes a loud thud as it collides with the floor. He let's out a weak groan. "Shut up, Dork." "I-I just came out here when I heard you guys stop yelling. I was worried." I almost smile. "Sorry for interrupting, but could you relocate yourselves far, far away from my couch?" "No need for relocation. Freddie was just being a creeper, but it's okay now." Sam glances down at Fred, smiles, then bounces toward the door slamming it shut behind her. I saunter to the other side of the couch and look down at Fred. He doesn't even look angry...just happy. Really, really happy. I pull him to his feet and brush him off a bit. Some sort conversing is probably due at this time. "So...uh." Man, I'm really struggling here. "I won't ask." "Good idea," he says. "Because I wouldn't be able to explain it." "And I really don't want to know," I add as he plops back down on my couch with this far off look in his eyes. Ew. "Raaawt! Rawt! Freddie likes boy! Rawt!" Diggory is not the most observant bird in the world. I expect Freddo to get all defensive and beg me to let him strangle to bird, but he only laughs. "Wow, it's like she never left." I laugh too, sort of. There is currently an empty side of the couch...hmm...it's been awhile. I sit down slowly, half expecting Sam to reappear and get to the cushion before me. But she doesn't, and I make sweet contact with the couch. I look over at Fred who nods. I settle further into the couch. Ahh...this is perfect. Then Freddie randomly sighs, which causes me to immediately jump away from my couch. Oh no...I'm never going to be able to sit on it again. It's been so defiled...